Click
by peetapuff
Summary: What happened after the ending? What did George do? The guilt of what lay on his conscience is heavy, but what measures will George take to rid the guilt. A/N: I do not own the characters.


CLICK 

The work day ends the same, with a friendly game of horseshoes. Except for George. Lately George hasn't been playing preferring to spend time in the barn just thinking things over. George heaves the barn door open with a creak. The light emanates weakly from the single gas lamp, like the setting rays of the sun. George trudges across the barn to the darkest corner, his feet dragging slowly across the floor on his way. He's let himself go since it happened dirt clings to his body and clothes in big patches as if he was in a mud ball fight, big dark bags droop down under his eyes like darkened bruises. He slides down the wall, pulling his knees up under his chin.

"I'm sorry Lennie," George looks up towards the ceiling, eyes glazing over with tears. "I didn't wanna Lennie, I swear it. I'm coming for you Lennie" His words choke. Reaching into his left pocket and pulling out Lennie's hat. Crinkled and faded from worn. He holds it to his face, remembering the last time he saw it atop Lennie's head. When his hand shook but then steadied and the shot rang out around him, Lennie's figure slumping to the ground going lifeless.

From his other pocket George pulls out a colt revolver, loaded with one bullet. "Five slots, one loaded," His whispered under his breath. He brings the gun up and places it in his mouth, the barrel touching the roof of his mouth. George takes a quick look around. His eyes linger on a stack of hay, scattered messily, like someone rolled on it. He remembers finding Curley's wife lying perfectly still, neck twisted at an odd angle. He remembers everything after in horrific detail. George wished many nights after that he hadn't gone through with it. CLICK! _Dang, empty slot._ Tears slide down his cheeks, filled with relief and disappointment. George thinks of the friends he's made since being here. Slim and Candy. The way that Slim helped George after the incident and how Candy was going to help them with their dream. But none of that matters now, it was all for nothing. Slim and Candy would move on. The clang of the horseshoes outside brought George back into focus. CLICK! Another blank. The horses whinnied in the stables, feeling George's distress. He bites down on the barrel, grunting with annoyance. _We coulda run away Lennie coulda lived in them mountains and hunted for food. That woulda been better than this hell. Lennie I didn't wanna, I shouldn't 'ave_.

The lamp seemed too bright now. Shining like the sun on a hot summer day. A little breeze rolled in through the cracks, causing the hay to stir. CLICK! Another blank, three slots left. He tightens his grip on Lennie's hat, tears flowing like a river down his face, leaving tracks through the dirt. George knows he doesn't have long before the game ends and someone ventures inside to find him. Everything and everyone on this farm, somehow connects back to Lennie. Crooks and the night Lennie talked to him, Curley and the night he busted his hand, Candy and how Lennie was more than happy for him to join in on their dream, Slim and how he was amazed at how Lennie worked. CLICK! Blank again. George sobs, the sound he makes is like a kicked puppy. He takes a few deep breathes around the barrel, calming himself. The tears have stopped leaving behind swollen red eyes as if he's triggered an allergy. The sound of voices outside meant the game was close to finish and here George was, gun in mouth, looking guilty. CLICK! He gasped. _One more slot, loaded with one bullet._ George takes a slow look at his surroundings one more time. The horses, the hay, the tools. Then slowly closing his eyes, tightening his grip on the gun. _On the count of three, George_. _1_ , he takes a deep breath. 2. CRASH! George's eyes spring open and land on the open barn door, Slim standing in the entrance looking anxious.  
"George no!" Slim races over to George, falling to his knees next to him. Slim slowly raises his hand to George's arm, grabbing it softly and pulling it away. "George please no. Lennie wouldn't want this," Slim quietly reassures. He grabs the gun and throws it away. "Lennie would want you to go and live the dream, not end your life," George looks up into Slim's eyes, wanting to cry but can't find the energy too.  
"George?" The voice didn't come from Slim and it certainly didn't sound like Slim's. It was too familiar, but it couldn't be true, it can't be true. George slowly turned his head towards the barn door and there standing was Lennie, unharmed.

George shoots upright in his bed, dripping with sweat, breathing hard. "It was just a dream" He sighs with relief. Looking around the small room, kicking his legs over the side of the bed. Slipping his feet into a pair of slippers, stretching his muscles. He makes his way towards the window and looks out, over alfalfa and vegetable patches towards the rabbit's pen. "This is for us Lennie, this is our home now," George smiles and chuckles lightly.


End file.
